


A Fair Compromise

by MarianneGreenleaf



Series: "Missing" Scenes in The Music Man: Canon and Fanon Reflections [5]
Category: Chicago (2002), Music Man - All Media Types, The Music Man (1962), The Music Man - All Media Types, The Music Man - Willson
Genre: Death Penalty debate, F/M, Jazz Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarianneGreenleaf/pseuds/MarianneGreenleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing a newsreel on their night at the movies, Harold and Marian debate what would be the appropriate fate for Chicago's "sweetest little jazz killer," Roxie Hart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fair Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> Normally, I don’t like to take on polarizing political issues, but a news story about a heinous crime got me thinking – and, as usual, I couldn't help wondering what certain characters I’ve grown quite fond of would have to say about the matter. My aim isn’t necessarily to argue for or against the subject, but to provoke deeper thought than the usual “there can be only one!” stances that commonly pass for modern intellectual discourse.

_River City, Iowa_  
_1924_

After the newsreel ended, Marian turned to her husband and whispered, “Do you think Roxie Hart deserves the death penalty?”

Harold’s eyes widened slightly, as if he were caught off guard. He was silent for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts. When he finally opened his mouth and started to say something in response, the movie started, and several other theater patrons shushed him.

Throughout the film’s run, Marian sneaked glances at her husband. He smiled, but he didn’t seem as engaged in the show as he usually was. Even when they walked home, the warm spring breezes making their stroll a delight for the senses indeed, he remained uncommonly pensive.

When they entered their front door, Harold turned to her and said, “I haven’t forgotten your question, darling – I just needed time to think about it. It’s not a subject I’ve often pondered, especially lately.”

Remembering her husband’s own shady past, Marian supposed his perspective on the subject would be unique, and said, “I suppose it depends on whether it truly was a matter of self-defense.”

Harold smiled and shook his head. “Even if it wasn’t… I still wouldn’t have the heart to say yes.”

Marian gaped at her husband. “Really? Even if she murdered Fred Casely out of revenge?”

“I don’t believe in killing women,” he said staunchly.

“Ever the gallant,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Personally, I believe everyone should be equal under the law – including women.”

Harold looked surprised. “I never figured you for a violent woman, Madam Librarian,” he teased, a smile playing around the edges of his lips.

“I’m not,” Marian replied, stung. “I simply believe in proper justice for crimes committed. Women have proven they are just as capable of murder as men – why should the punishment be any different for them? If a man had killed Mr. Casely and it wasn’t self-defense, there wouldn’t be any argument as to the fate he deserved.”

Harold’s smile faded, and he nodded. “Indeed – when you state the matter with such impeccable logic, there really is no good argument.”

Her eyes narrowed. “But?”

“Real life is rarely so neat, even on the other side of the law,” he said with a shrug. “Situations can, and often do, have extenuating circumstances, even when everything might seem clear-cut to an outside observer.”

“That’s why we have due process and trial by jury,” Marian retorted.

Harold shrugged again. “I suppose… but humans are fallible, just like everyone else. Suppose the wrong person gets caught and convicted? I’m sure it happens at least occasionally.”

“A regrettable error,” she conceded. “But it looks pretty clear-cut that Mrs. Hart did kill the man. The question is why – and once the evidence is presented, I’m sure her jury will have all the information it needs to make a just and wise decision as to her fate.”

Harold nodded and fell silent, this time looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Is everything all right, darling?” Marian ventured after a few moments.

He met her eyes with his. “Marian, if you knew some of the things I’ve done… what would you say I deserved?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Marian’s eyes widened, and she finally understood what was bothering him. “Oh no, Harold,” she assured him, “your situation was entirely different!”

He shook his head. “Maybe not… for one, there was Eileen.”

“But you didn’t actually strike the blow,” she persisted. “I thought that was her fiancé’s doing?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “He was trying to kill me. And I left her there, which at the very least makes me an accessory to murder.”

“Manslaughter,” Marian amended.

But Harold didn’t appear to have heard her. “Not that I blame him for trying to do me in – he wasn’t the first man to point a knife in my direction, and he certainly wasn’t the last. Most of the time, I was able to talk my way out of the situation before it escalated into outright violence.” He looked sadly at her. “But sometimes… I wasn’t. Two sometimes, to be precise. I only defended myself as much as I needed to, and I never stuck around to see the results, but I could never be sure… ” He faltered and fell silent.

Marian gently laid her hand on her husband’s arm. “That was still self-defense.”

Harold let out a bleak laugh. “Do you think a jury would have seen it that way? I was already on the wrong side of the law – at the very least, I would have received life in prison.” He glanced uneasily at his wife, as if he was no longer certain of her regard. “According to the law – not to mention basic human decency – I would have deserved what I got.”

As much as Marian loved him, she couldn’t find a logical rebuttal to that. “Well, you _do_ regret what you’ve done,” she said reassuringly. “And you are no longer a conman, Harold. You made something of your life – something wonderful. You’re not like the rest of the criminals out there.”

Harold chuckled. “Your deep and abiding love for me makes you very biased on my behalf,” he said appreciatively. He met her gaze again. “Marian… in all my travels, I consorted with a fair amount of criminals – very few of them were entirely evil and depraved. I have met true monsters on rare occasions – the types I would agree are deserving of death – but none of them were ever caught and convicted, as far as I know. Usually, people like that are too clever to be apprehended – they’ll let someone else in their vast web take the fall. Some of us criminals – like me and Marcellus – wised up and got out of the life before it was too late. Others didn’t, and ended up dead, in jail, or both. I guess you could say they got their just desserts. But in a truly just world, shouldn’t men like us still have paid at least some debt to society?”

“But you changed,” she reiterated. “And besides – it’s not a truly just world.”

Harold nodded. “Exactly. Which is why I’m not comfortable enough to draw a definite conclusion that Roxie Hart deserves the death penalty – even if it does turn out she murdered Fred Casely in cold blood.”

Marian nodded. “Fair enough. But the rational part of me still can’t agree with banning the death penalty entirely.”

“I understand,” Harold replied. He paused for a moment, before adding, “And I will admit that despite my personal discomfort and own self interest, I also hesitate to draw the conclusion that Mrs. Hart won’t deserve what she might get.”

The librarian nodded again, and hugged her husband. “That seems like a fair compromise. Thank heavens we’re not the ones who have to decide her fate!”

“Hopefully, I won’t ever be called to serve on such a jury,” the conman-turned-music professor fervently agreed, wrapping his arms around his beloved wife.


End file.
